Silk and Incense
by Erhellen
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a warlock. Then, there was a boy.. Malec AU


Disclaimer: I wish I owned this. But what I actually own is a pair of spotted brown pants.

Pairing: Magnus bane, Alexander Lightwood

Universe: AU, An imperialistic setting with an emperor and his favourite Warlock, who desired a Flower from the red light district.

Rating- T

Warnings- None, as of yet.

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The scent of incense assaulted his nose as gauzy silk curtains teased his skin. The wooden floors creaked softly beneath his weight in the tasteful room, decorated with shoji screens that bared images of golden koi fish swimming in waters the color of the new born dawn.

_He_ sat by the door, holding it open, demurely with his head bowed as he waited for Magnus to acknowledge him. The long curtain of ebony hair obscured the slender column of his neck. He wore a kimono the color of the night sky with a latticework of vines, and fireflies that danced between them in motionless golden threads.

"Welcome Master," he spoke softly, the happiness speaking in every line of his still bowed body.

Magnus took his customary seat on the tatami mat on the low table where a tea set awaited him and gave Alexander the acknowledgement he had been waiting for.

"I am back," he spoke, his voice measured, to conceal the leap of his heart.

Alexander rose and walked to him, his face glowing with the serene joy of a bodhisattva who found enlightenment. Magnus could not help the softening of his features then nor could he keep from the joy that sluiced him when Alexander rewarded him by electing to sit beside him, accidently resting his leg against his own for a brief moment before moving away and apologetically bowing with a soft, nervous smile.

Magnus's leg mourned the loss of Alexander's warmth as the chill settled around it. Alexander turned to make Magnus a cup of tea and gently asked him about his day. Magnus replied with a careless, "It was productive," for all of his attention was bent towards the graceful movements of the boy who made his tea. Magnus felt strangely like a miser hoarding treasure every time he managed to catch a glimpse of Alexander's elusive wrist, the pale slice of skin was all the more enticing for the contrast of the dark silk of the kimono.

Alexander smiled again, as if he were a child who had been given a sweet, and began to speak of an amusing anecdote involving a servant who tried to peek at another of the "flower" of the House of Dreams and promptly received a face full of the wooden bucket and some missing teeth.

Magnus soaked in the sweet lilt of Alexander's voice and rewarded his efforts with the barest of smiles. Magnus did not think it possible but Alexander glowed even brighter as an impossibly wide smile graced his lips.

He redoubled his efforts at amusing Magnus and carelessly reached out to pour Magnus a cup and touched the still boiling pot. A sharp gasp was all that Alexander allowed to escape as he cradled his palm for a moment before bowing to Magnus and apologising to him for his clumsiness.

He remained bowing as Magnus leaned forward and wrapped his fingers around his palm and brought it up as if to inspect it.

The finger had pinked with the burn but there was no damage done. Magnus's cat eyes found Alexander's blue ones, and Alexander dropped his eyes in shame. Magnus drew his hand closer, and Alexander's body slid forwards with the force.

The feeling of a warm wetness gathered at Alexander's fingers and he looked up to find steady amber-green eyes looking at him while a pink tongue darted out to lick his wound. Alexander flushed, the color creeping up from the base of his neck, spreading upwards like streaks of a dusk sun.

"Look at me, Alexander" he commanded, his voice caressing the syllables with the same exquisite attention he paid to Alexander himself.

Alexander found that he was unable to deny Magnus anything that he might ask. To look a customer in the eyes, especially one so highly placed, was simply not done. So Alexander settled for looking at his chin, memorising the shape of his lips, the slight beauty mark hiding beneath the shadow of his lower lip. The cheekbones, that looked like they had been chiselled with the blade of a diamond cutter. The sweet scent of autumn still clung to his earth clad skin.

Alexander felt an unfamiliar hum beneath his skin, saturating through his blood, and singing through his heart. He wanted to slip within the confines of that scent and never leave. The feel of Magnus's tongue on his fingers sent a flutter quite unlike anything he had ever known before.

When Magnus let go of his hand, Alexander felt a feeling of desolation steal its way through him. Perhaps the Lord of the Higher Court had become tired of him. The thought turned his heart cold with the thought of losing him. He quivered, waiting for the graceful rise, the cool eyes holding disdain as his voice dripped with contempt and bemusement at thought of a common whore like him, slighting the oldest of the Nobles of the Higher Court.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the memories- warm ones of amber-green eyes steadily holding his own as a battle scarred thumb brushed the curve of his cheek in the gentlest of caresses.

It brought the strangest burn in his heart, to know that he was touched by the untouchable Lord of Brooklyn. Alexander understood desire, it was his bread and butter after all. He understood pleasure- those who sought it only for themselves, ones who think to share, the ones who care so much about the other that they deny themselves.

When it came to Magnus, nothing seemed to make sense. All who sought him came to him with their desires writ on their faces and never lingered past the eve. But Magnus always chose to sit across from him, never chose to speak, but only watch and listen.

He listened when Alexander spoke of the harvest, he listened attentively to his predictions of rain or storm. He listened when Alexander propositioned him, playfully wondering if the Lord of Brooklyn could ever have a male fere.

That was the only time Alexander had been reproached, burning amber-green blazed into his own as Magnus spoke curtly, "A lord's will is law. There is none who will dare deny him." Desire mingled with warning in the tone of his velveteen voice. Alexander had shivered involuntarily as he spoke those words.

So slowly, after the pass of two whole cycles of the moon, Alexander spoke of his family.

Of sweet Isabelle, who always came home late, trailing mud and leaves and a palm full of fireflies.

Of blasé, arrogant Jace who never spoke his mind, preferring to fling cold, brutal truths to screen his own feelings.

Of the chubby Max with his bright, curious eyes and tiny fingers.

Of his mother who always smelled like freshly baked bread and sunlight, and always pushed him to try harder and be _more._

Of his father, who worked in a mine and accepted the only son of his best friend as if he were his own.

Alexander clamped down on his thoughts. He would not- not here- not in front of Magnus. The crinkle of dried rice stalk roused him from his thoughts. Magnus had just placed a box made of woven rice stalks on the table and turned to him expectantly.

Alexander felt slightly embarrassed under the scrutiny, partly because Magnus's eyes always commanded a near physical presence and partly because he never felt comfortable with attention.

He bowed in thanks to Magnus and said he did not deserve the kindness. Magnus rode roughshod over his protestations and demanded that he take it. Alexander wondered lazily about this dance. Both of them knew that Alexander would eventually accept this gift. They also knew that protocol would not allow Alexander to accept this gift from the get go. So, they danced- denial and grace, persistence and denial, and finally, grace and acceptance.

Alexander bowed again in thanks and said he was unworthy of the honor. Magnus waved his protests away. Alexander lifted the lid to find confectionary inside. A small gasp escaped his lips.

He recalled that he had mentioned to Magnus that he had liked the confectionary that one of the other Flower had offered him. The blush that had faded a little came back full force.

"T-Thank you very much, My Lord" Alexander stuttered, a little in awe of the sweet gesture of the man before him.

He shot up with a sudden startled realization. "It-it's time for dinner, allow me to call for it, my Lord," he spoke and quickly excused himself.

Outside the room, Alexander drew a shuddering breath into his over-heated body, he headed to the comfort of the kitchen to tell the cook to prepare a fine variety of meat and fish. The cook received his request with a careless grunt that stood for assent and shoo-ed him from the kitchens.

Despite his respite, the trembling in his legs refused to fade, his hands still felt cold from nervousness. He sought relief for a silent minute in the empty corridor.

He knew he could never dream of love. He had been warned that that was the biggest mistake someone like him could make. He was taught to share his charm, his body and his thoughts, never his heart. To do so would bring him nothing but pain. He had laughed it off then, the possibility of falling in love with a greasy old pervert an impossibility.

He had never anticipated this, never anticipated Magnus- with his comforting, intimidating presence. He never anticipated his battle scarred fingers to have such a gentle, platonic touch. He never anticipated such sweet gestures from him or the fact he had demanded nothing in return.

It frustrated and exasperated him that he was unable to understand what Magnus wanted. He had never made an advance towards him. He never even batted an eyelid at all of Alexander's propositions. He blew a breath of exasperation and walked back towards Magnus.

He was waiting, the tight line of his lips showcasing his displeasure. Alexander steadied himself mentally and as he had for the past few days, bowed.

"It is time for your bath, my lord" he says, feeling nervous, despite knowing Magnus would never do anything to him.

Magnus rose then, the graceful lines of his body, hidden beneath the vivacious riot of leaves on his kimono. He stood a half head taller than Alexander. Magnus inclined his head, indicating that Alexander should take the lead.

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Um.. The one shot that I wanted to post for valentine's day. It got delayed due to RL. This is just a bit of a teaser. Let me know if you think I should continue this.

And as always, Do review.


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